


Nothing but the Truth

by orphan_account



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkward Tension, Dib Being Creepy (Invader Zim), Dib is a teenager, Embarrassment, Gross, Humor, Interspecies Awkwardness, Loss of Innocence, M/M, Sexual Harassment, Weirdness, inappropriate language, kinkshaming, mildly disturbing imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21850606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Zim creates a machine that makes humans tell the truth. To see if it works, he experiments on Dib. However, he gets too much of what he bargained for!
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Nothing but the Truth

I crawled on the ceiling of my expansive base. My pointed fingers maneuvered around wires and pipes, industrially attached to the ceiling. There was no light in the room, apart from my glowing red eyes. The only thing that could be heard was the slow skittering of my mechanical spider legs. I creeped ever so closer to my prey. Tied to a metallic table was Dib, who was struggling in vain to wiggle out of my contraption. It seemed as if his puny human eyes hadn't noticed me yet, despite his body being oriented towards the ceiling.

Maneuvering so that I was exactly below him, I twisted my neck, bones popping, so that my glowing ruby eyes faced him. Immediately, he uttered a frightened yelp, and thrashed harder on the table than ever. My resonating laugh boomed through my silent laboratory. In the dim light, his face seemed to gain a redder hue. I flopped roughly to the ground, making a small grunt before scrambling to a light switch. Warm lights on the floor shone, casting the mechanical room in an unearthly fashion.

"Oh, Dib-human," I mocked, grin creeping off my face, "You're always amusing."

"Let me out of here!" he demanded, as if that was going to help.

Waltzing back to the table, I spat, "Or what?"

"I'll, um... I'll do... Something!"

I laughed again, dramatically throwing my head back.

"You're cute," I cooed.

He thrashed against the metal restraints I attached to his wrists and ankles. He gave up with a frustrated pant. Satisfied knowing he won't escape, I tottered over to a large, hulking machine that wasn't very far. I slammed a few colorful buttons, and it sprung to life, whirring loudly.

I asked, dramatically extending my arms, "Do you want to know what this is?"

"No."

A tense, silent moment passed.

"Well, um," I stated, not knowing how to respond, "I'm going to pretend you said yes. It's an Honesty Ray!"

He gulped, growing pale.

Rubbing my hands together with evil intent, I explained, "I never know what you're up to, whether impersonating my garden gnomes, or sneaking around in a squirrel costume-"

"No, that was my fursona."

Another increasingly tense moment passed, as my brain churned.

With an awkward cough, I continued, "...Which is why you're the perfect test subject for my latest invention!"

"Have I ever told you? You sound like Dr. Doofenshmirtz."

My mind suddenly snapped to an awful fanfiction I read, where the skinny man kissed a platypus. My grin twisted into a tight frown.

"Silence!" I screeched. "Anyway, I'm firing it at you now!"

I scrambled back to my wonderful machine. It was at least three times my height, with pipes and wires sticking out of it's grey, shiny, shell at random. I adjusted a large plate to aim it at my nemesis, similar to a satellite dish. With all of my might, I karate-chopped a large, glowing button. The large disk, with a loud electronic whistle, fired off a red beam at his forehead. He blinked quickly, and shook his head.

Dramatically raising myself into the air with my PAK legs, I bellowed, "Now, Honest-Dib! Answer me this; what do you know about my secret plans?"

Dib clamped his mouth shut, staring daggers into my ruby eyes.

"You need some motivation, huh?" I asked, sneering. "If you don't answer my question, I'm taking your pants off."

Instantaneously, he described what he knew, from the garden gnome's weaknesses, to the password on my computer. I frowned, as reality bubbled in my chest.

"I might need to invent a memory-forgetter ray, too," I thought to myself, as he described how he acquired this information.

I tapped the edges of my fingers together, as he finished his monologue. I simply murmured, "I see."

I paced around the table, as I felt the boy's glare burrowing into my head. My boots clacked on the cold, steel floor. Anxiety was gradually replaced with boredom for each step. I scratched the side of my face, deciding what to do next.

"The artificial honesty is active for-" I glanced at an analog clock on the machine. "-half an hour."

I leaned on the table, Dib orientating his foot from my claws. I wiggled my antennae in an attempt to find something to do. Suddenly, a glorious idea sprung in my head.

With a wide smirk, I growled, "I only planned to ask you what you knew about my base, but... Since you're already tied up, and the beam is still active, I guess I'll have a little fun."

Dib shifted uncomfortably on the table. My mind imagined him wishing he was in his room, doing whatever humans did. Owning a devilish grin, I leaned my head forward so that we were frighteningly close.

I asked rhetorically, "What are some fun, ultra-personal questions I can ask a human?"

"Or you could not."

"Shut your face-butt!" I snapped, pointing a sharp finger dangerously close to his nose, "I was speaking rhetorically so that I can build tension!"

I saw spittle spring from my mouth onto his face. He grimaced, flexing his hands. Out of the goodness of my heart, I wiped my spit off of his pale, greasy face. Because he was a teenager, I could understand why he had acne. However, I couldn't comprehend why his looked worse than all other highschoolers I saw. 

"You should wash your face."

Rolling his eyes, he quipped, "Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome."

He scrunched his eyebrows together, as I gave him a smug grin. I snatched away his glasses, something I noticed he didn't like by the way he squirmed. Swabbing the lenses on my chest, I held them up to my face. Through the lenses, the world was twisted and distorted.

I roughly shoved them back onto his face, as I insulted, "You're blind."

"Actually-"

"It was a joke."

"I know that, but-"

"And now," I declared, not wanting to continue that conversation, for I feared I would waste more minutes, "I will ask you more questions!"

I grinned again, as the wheels in my head started spinning. After a moment of casually pacing around the table, I came up with a question. 

"What is your greatest desire?"

"What do mean? Like, a goal, or sexual, or-"

I crinkled my face in confusion, as I asked, "Sexual?"

Dib's face held the perfect emotion of, "God, I wish I hadn't said that." He scrunched his eyes shut, as he groaned. The teenager uncomfortably shifted in his restraints.

He whined, "Do I have to tell you?"

"Yes!" I bellowed, dramatically waving my hands in the air, "I require information!"

He bit his lip, as his face grew red. I wondered why his face had to grow red to tell me what sexual meant. My brain came up with answers: a translation error, a weird cultural boundary, or maybe he mistook my question.

"It's, um... Acne on-"

I angrily blurted out, "What does acne have to do with the definition of sexual?"

"Wait," Dib choked, "You were asking what sexual meant?"

"Uh-huh."

He thrashed against his restraints, clearly frustrated about something. My brain immediately categorized the situation as an error of something.

"How do I explain this to an alien?" he exclaimed to himself. He sighed, as he balled his fists. "So, uh, reproduction, right? We _primitive creatures_ , as you like to call us, spread our genes by physical means."

I gulped. I was aiming the conversation into uncomfortable territory, but my curiosity was boundless.

"How do you do that?" I hoarsely croaked.

"Oh, you know..." Dib trailed off.

"I don't know."

"You really don't know?"

"No."

"Did you pay attention _at all_ in Sex Ed?"

"Oh, I wasn't there that day because I was trapped in a hole in my yard."

We silently stared at each other, wanting to exchange words. A moment passed, and only baffled glares were shared. Neither party did anything. Breaking the awkward silence, I egged him on, which elicited an eye roll.

With a sigh, Dib explained, "So, uh, to exchange genes, humans- no- most creatures, have sex. To do that, we have specific organs to carry out that function."

"Uh huh."

"And the male impregnates the female, and the woman produces a baby."

"O-kay," I stated slowly, taking the time to form my words like an articulate sculpture, "But how?"

Dib brashly answered, "You stick your dick in a pussy, bam. Baby."

I scrunched my eyebrows, as I tried to intake the new information.

"Erm, so, um... The, uh," I mumbled.

The new words described something primitive, raw, and mysterious, so my mouth had trouble forming the words I wanted to say. Everything about the situation revolted me to my core, making my organs squirm and writhe like a parasite had infected them. In a way, a parasite, masquerading in the form of knowledge, had infected me.

Voice suddenly raspy, I croaked, "The dick is the male one, and the, uh, pussy is the female organ?"

"Yep."

"How does the offspring, uh..." I waved my hands in the air, unable to find words.

"Oh, the woman gives live birth. It takes nine months for the baby to grow."

I nodded, soaking in all of the details this awful, dastardly, no-good conversation had to offer. I tightened my lips into a straight line.

My organs bunched, as I asked, "But what does acne have to do with having sex?"

He shifted his jaw, as his eyes glanced around the room. "There's, um, a part of the brain that's dedicated to sex, right? However- and this happens in everybody- that part can get a little corrupted. Well, corrupted isn't a good word for that. Um..."

"Something gets messed up?" I offered.

"That sounds right," he continued. I noticed his face was still uncomfortable, but a little less so than a minute ago. "And, so, that part can sometimes make a permanent connection with a non-sexual object and sexual gratification. That's called a fetish. Or kink? I don't know the difference."

I leaned on the metal table, arching my back solemnly. I knocked both of my elbows onto the cold, metallic surface.

"I knew the human brain was weird," I stated, plopping my head into my palms, "But goddamn, your species is weird."

"Yep. We are."

My brain, despite my inner protests, kept creating more questions. My mind warred between the purpose of my mission, and how I felt about the knowledge I was gaining. Deep in my gut, I reminded myself of my life mission; to gain knowledge about the humans, and destroy them. However, another part wanted to delete all associated memories with this scene. Somehow, and I have no clue how, my selfishness lost. I turned my head towards Dib, attempting to make eye contact.

"So, how did you acquire this... fetish? Is that what you called it?"

He groaned loudly. "I hoped you wouldn't get to that."

"Of course I would! I'm torturing you!"

"This is worse than torture," he moaned.

"I'm glad to hear that," I sneered with a grin that slid off my face.

He sighed, as he squeezed his eyes shut. I relished in his uncomfortable body language, stimulation to my warring mind. My teeth flashed a light pink hue, as sweat poured off his face. Although I showed complete control over the situation, I quickly realized it was the opposite. I had no idea what he was going to say next, about a topic that was making my moral authoritarianism flare. My organs tied each other in knots.

"You remember that one episode where you grew that giant zit?"

Something in me snapped. My antennae quivered; my heart raced.

"How dare you blame me for your sex glitch!" I screamed, flexing a finger at the young man.

I used my PAK legs to raise me into the air, in a desperate attempt to seem more powerful in this situation. My arms shook, for fear that I legitimately had something to do with this awful condition he had. My respiratory organs pulsated with anxiety.

Pulling his lips into a snarl, he griped, "If you would shut up for a minute, I'm going to explain why."

I slowly lowered my long spider legs, as I curled my hand out of his personal bubble. My breathing, however, still quickened.

"Yeah, so, you got that giant zit that exploded everywhere, and literally coated _the whole school_ with your artificial banana-tasting alien pus."

My left eye twitched. "It tasted like what?"

"Have you ever had a banana flavored Laffy Taffy? Tastes just like that. Anyway-"

In a low grow, I asked, "And _why_ did you taste my pus-juice?"

"Oh," Dib stated casually, "Well, it was all over my hands and clothes."

I gagged.

"Okay, so, I spent freaking _hours_ cleaning it up! Your stupid pus was all over everything. The halls, the classroom, everywhere! So, then, when I went home, I..." He trailed off, looking guiltily at the ceiling.

Sweat began to build up on his face, as it grew bright red again. His eyes refused to acknowledge my great presence. He chuckled awkwardly, though the two of us did not find this situation funny at all. I stalked closer to the table, so I was a head away from his face. I trembled with terror, calculating a million outcomes.

"What," I croaked, practically begging for him to end the tenseness bursting out of my chest, "did you do?"

It appeared as if it took a great mental battle for him to wibble, "I, uh, strengthened the connection between a non-sexual object and sexual gratification by, uh... Do you really want to know?"

He stopped again, gulping hard. His feet fearfully pointed together, as vigorously wiped his sweaty hands off on his black jeans. I could smell the sweat and nervousness radiating off of him.

Slamming my hands onto both sides of his head, I roared, "Tell me!"

Our faces were extremely close together. I could feel his strained breathing across my face.

In a quiet, sad voice, he articulated, "I used your pus as lube to whack off."

His words stiffly hung in the air. Slowly, I backed away from the table. I methodically, stealthily, quietly stepped backwards, delicately placing my toe on my steel floors before planting my whole foot. My body writhed with the discomfort that my juices had been used for something awful. Something primitive. Disgusting.

"You," I rasped, wrapping my arms around my sides, "You make me sick. You and your primitive breeding, and your glitches, and... Eugh!"

"Oh, do I?"

Suddenly, I noticed Dib's demeanor started to change. Instead of being a quivering, wet-eyed baby, he started to grow an evil grin on his face. Off-white teeth poked from under his curling lips. I could feel the power dynamic in the room change. I bit my lip, as, too late, I realized my mistake! I showed weakness! 

"Hey, Zim," he snarled, talking down to me, "I haven't fully answered your question."

My throat felt as dry as sand. "W-which is?"

"'What's your greatest desire?'"

I turned my snail's pace of a crawl into a nanometer per second walk. My pulse pounded in my neck and ears. I scanned the analog clock on the machine. There was still quite a bit of time left.

"W-well, um, y-you don't have to answer that one!" I shrieked, as it was my turn to laugh awkwardly, "I have plenty of information!"

"Oh, no. I'll tell you! You invaders want more information anyway, right?"

I stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence. I felt like I was going to puke.

"Well," he mused, staring into my soul, "We'd be in my garage, you being pinned down, strapped to a table like what you're doing to me." With a smirk, he commented in a dehumanizing fashion, "Clothes off, of course." He continued, "You would be begging for my dick; begging for me to give you pressure, and to fill you up."

"No," I protested, sounding weaker than I wanted it to.

"Yes! And, giving you what you want, I'd pound you roughly, with a steady rhythm. I'd fill your entire alien pussy with my length, over and over again."

Despite not knowing what these organs looked like, I roughly guessed where they would be placed. My imagination filled in the disgusting scene. His words branded themselves into my mind. My lower half of my body felt violated; I could almost feel a pounding. Or, maybe it was the quick, deep, throb of my heart that echoed into my ears.

I mewled, "Stop."

"In one hand, I'd grip your waist, and with the other, I'd run my thumb along your cheekbones, staring into those gargantuan, sparkling, ruby eyes of yours."

I resisted the urge to caress my upper jaw.

"I'd shift that hand from the side of your face to your cheek, where I'd stab my thumbnail into a giant zit, causing it to explode immediately."

"Stop it!" I screamed.

I detested myself for showing this much weakness; my whole body was quivering pathetically. However, I had never encountered such strange psychological torture before. I had trained for many things, but one thing I had never come across was this. My imagination was running loose, and Dib was making it so, so, so much worse.

"I'd press our bodies closer, as I'd lick every last drop spilling down your face."

I acted purely on instinct, as I lunged at the table, PAK legs engaged. I slammed on top of him, giving my chest a flash of momentary pain before I scrambled closer to his head. With a panicked look in my eye, I clapped both of my small hands over his mouth. We made eye contact again, though now, he had a startled look. The only thing that could be heard in the dark laboratory was my ragged breathing. My boots ground into Dib's chest, making him squirm under my sharp heels.

"When I say stop," I snarled, growling in a low voice, "I mean it."

Suddenly, a horrible sensation crossed my palms. Dib's tongue slyly ran over my hands. I shuddered in disgusted agony.

"Would you stop being a brat for one second?" I snarled.

He shrugged his shoulders.

With a sigh, I bargained, "Okay. I'm going to remove my hands, and you're going to stop your disgusting roleplay."

Slowly, methodically, I peeled my slimy hands away from his face. He wore a smug stare. Frowning, I wiped my palms on his shirt. Satisfied he wasn't trying to gross me out any longer, I clambered off of him, hitting the floor with a solid whack. Turning my back to him, I marched to an open door.

"Hey, uh," he muttered, "You're not going to leave me here, right?"

"Dib-stink?"

"Yeah?"

"You suck," I growl.

I close the door, leaving him in complete and utter darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you think God stays in Heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he's created?


End file.
